


Lucid

by cedarbranch



Series: Erase, Rewind, Repeat [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode Style, Gen, Michael Shelley Lives, Michael-centric, Original Statement (The Magnus Archives), Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Statement Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:42:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23193391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cedarbranch/pseuds/cedarbranch
Summary: Statement of Michael Shelley, regarding... the Distortion. Statement taken direct from subject, July 23rd, 2017. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.Or: Michael rediscovers humanity.
Relationships: Michael & Jonathan Sims
Series: Erase, Rewind, Repeat [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667341
Comments: 8
Kudos: 92





	Lucid

**Author's Note:**

> *bangs pots and pans* MICHAEL DESERVES THE WORLD

[KNOCKING]

[SADIE]

[Muffled] Hello?

[ARCHIVIST]

[PAPER RUSTLES]

Come in. 

[A DOOR CREAKS OPEN. TWO SETS OF FOOTSTEPS APPROACH, AND THE DOOR CLOSES.]

[ARCHIVIST]

Ah, Ms. Clarke, thank you for… Oh. 

[PAUSE]

[MICHAEL]

Hello.

[SADIE]

Should I have called in or something? Let you know we were coming?

[ARCHIVIST]

No, no, this is fine. I’m glad you’re here. Would you two like to, uh, sit down?

[SADIE]

That would be lovely. [ _Softer_ ] Do you want me to stay for this part, or?

[MICHAEL]

N-no, it’s fine. Thank you, though.

[SADIE]

Okay. I think I’ll just wait outside for a bit, then. Call me if you need anything.

[THE DOOR CREAKS OPEN AND CLOSED. A CHAIR SCRAPES AGAINST THE FLOOR.]

[ARCHIVIST]

So… You’re Michael.

[MICHAEL]

Yes. I-I know we’ve met before, but it was—it was different circumstances, you know, so I was thinking maybe we could have a bit of a do-over? If you don’t mind?

[ARCHIVIST]

I… yes, that’s fine.

[MICHAEL]

Okay. Perfect. Well, m-my name is Michael Shelley. Pleasure to meet you.

[ARCHIVIST]

Yes, likewise. I-I’m Jonathan Sims. The Archivist.

[MICHAEL]

[ _Laughs nervously_ ] I do know that much.

[ARCHIVIST]

Of course. I-I’m sorry, I just… How are you _here_? I thought you were dead, I thought Helen had… become you.

[MICHAEL]

Oh, she did. Well, part of me, at least. It was… I-I really don’t know how to explain this, I’m sorry, it’s difficult to talk about… myself? Who I was?

[ARCHIVIST]

Yes, you did say that.

[MICHAEL]

Oh, it was even harder back then. It’s easier now, I’m a little more—everything is just more… definite. I-I think maybe I should just make a statement, it might make this go more smoothly. Do you think you could… Y-you know, say the words?

[ARCHIVIST]

...Sure. [ _Clears throat_ ] Statement of Michael Shelley, regarding… the Distortion. Statement taken direct from subject, June 30th, 2017. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

[MICHAEL]

I guess I’ll just pick up where we left off, then. 

The Distortion was never meant to be bound to a human being. It was… an incredibly confusing way to exist. And that was fine, given that the Distortion is, in its own way, the embodiment of confusion. I think that’s the only reason why it worked. It was—it was sort of fitting. But it was painful, too, very much so.

I… I don’t know if “I” is even the right way to refer to it. I don’t think I can really say that _that_ Michael was me. It wasn’t like—like this version of me was trapped in there the whole time, like I was possessed or anything. Everything was all blended together. We were one creature, even if it was a poorly mixed one. I remembered being Michael Shelley, but the memories didn’t feel like they were mine. Thinking about them felt like watching in the third person. I didn’t own that identity any longer. And I definitely didn’t feel human.

But I know I wasn’t entirely monster, either. I think bits of personality were still in there, filtering what I did. Emotions, too. Buried way down deep, so… [ _Sighs_ ] I was angry. And scared, a-and in pain. But I didn’t ever _feel_ those things. I was just kind of aware of them, on a subconscious level. Like when you’re getting ill and y-you’re suddenly tired all the time, but you don’t really notice it until you consciously realize that you have a cold, put a name to the feeling. It was like that, e-e-except I was never able to put a name to it. I would just kind of just do what I wanted without ever having a motive for it. 

I think when Helen took the Distortion for herself, it sort of… short-circuited a bit. It was never supposed to have one human in it, much less two. So it… spat me out? One second I was turning that doorknob, and the next everything hurt. I had forgotten what the original process of becoming felt like, but it must’ve been the same—actually, no, that might have been more painful, now that I think of it. However much it hurt to _un-become_ , there was a kind of relief to it. 

I woke up alone in the Spiral’s halls. I was confused, but in a different way than I had been all those years. It was a very human sort of confusion. Before, the Spiral always felt natural. I was part of it, after all, so I blended right in. The delusion of it all was second nature. It was only the conflict between that distorted part of me and the human part that caused me so much trouble. But now I was fully human—I think—s-so my mind could no longer process the Spiral so easily. 

The first thing I did was panic. [ _Laughs nervously_ ] Returning to a previous form of existence is extremely jarring. All of a sudden I could really feel every emotion inside me, and it was overwhelming, like i-if you’ve been blind your whole life and suddenly find yourself able to see in technicolor. I could barely breathe around the fear. The walls were so bright and contorted, the sensory overload alone was enough to make me… I don’t know. I-I want to say “freak out,” but that would be a truly enormous understatement. It took me a while to even get to the part where I could worry about being hunted.

I wasn’t sure if Helen knew I had survived, but I didn’t think it would take her long to realize, and I didn’t want to find out how she would react. Based on the fact that you’re still alive, I’m guessing she’s a—a little less violent than I was, which is, y’know, that’s great! Great that you’re still alive. Very glad about that. Um… Anyway, I wasn’t sure if she’d extend that kindness to me, so I figured I ought to get out of there as soon as possible. Only problem was, the corridors weren’t part of me anymore, so I couldn’t navigate them as easily. I still had some vague memory… Well, not quite memory, but some sense of how to move around—like an afterimage behind your eyelids—but I was having trouble tapping into it. I got lost. 

I was mentally exhausted, and after a while it started to hit me physically, too. Don’t ask me why. I hadn’t really—well, I still had the same body, but I don’t think it occupies space the same way anymore? Point is, I wasn’t really used to using my muscles like a normal person, and walking was really hard. I had to stop and rest for a while. I’m not sure how long I was asleep. It felt like a long time, but… l-like I said, my processing systems were way off, and time is weird in the Spiral, anyway. So I just sat down somewhere and went to sleep. 

I hadn’t slept in a long time. Maybe that’s why the dreams took me so off guard.

I fell asleep, and I was back on that ship, sailing away through the Kara Sea. I saw Gertrude, and when I saw her, I saw her like I did before. A sweet old woman who would never hurt a fly, let alone me. [ _Laughs quietly_ ] I really wanted her to love me, you know. I was blinded by that desperation. I always wanted to please her, for her to, to approve of me. I’d never had that before. But I’d never really been outwardly mistreated, either, so it never occurred to me that she might have been lying. I didn’t know why she was acting so strangely. I chalked it up to nerves, or her trying to look strong through the chill. But no. She was the coldest thing out there by far.

I knew what was coming as we approached the shoreline. I’d lived it once before. I asked all the same questions, knowing the answers. Where are we going? Why are we here? Her answers didn’t reassure me. It was so ironic, that arriving on land made me feel better, when it should have been the thing I feared the most. 

Laying eyes on the Distortion in the dream might have been even more terrifying than it was in real life, because in the dream, I could look at it and see the memory from both sides. The triumph of the Great Twisting, and the agony of its failure. The way I just barely managed not to scream when I opened the door, and the cascading feeling of derealization as I lost track of why I wanted to. 

And then, a-as I was twisted, I looked, and I saw you. Watching. Standing there with all your eyes drinking it in. I had never been afraid of the Eye before. Michael—I mean, I wasn’t scared before, because I never even knew that it watched over the archives. I didn’t know there _was_ anything to fear. And of course the Distortion wasn’t afraid of you. What good is watching, perceiving, against the power of delusion? The Eye could never look into the Spiral and gain anything of meaning. 

But in that dream, I was scared of the Eye. I was petrified. 

I knew why you were there. I knew what I’d done by giving you my statement, a-and what I’m doing now, I suppose… I’m not sure how this will affect the dreams. I hope they don’t double up or anything like that, that would be really awful. M-maybe they'll just cancel out? But I’m not that lucky. And the Eye isn’t that benevolent. I’m probably dooming myself to another round of night terrors, but it’s… i-it’s fine, I’ve been scared long enough anyway. What’s a little more?

Eventually I woke up from the dream, and there was a young woman kneeling next to me. She said her name was Sadie. I knew exactly who she was. Well—not like, personally, I-I’d never actually met her before or anything, but I knew who she was, conceptually. She was the kind of person I would have lured into the Distortion a-and fed on. I assumed that was what Helen had done. Sadie mentioned her right away, so it turned out I was right. Now there was double the reason to try and get out quickly. I didn’t know how Helen would react to me, but Sadie was already marked. If Helen found her, she’d be dead.

After that, it got easier to navigate. Maybe it was because of the dream. I’d just re-lived the sensation of becoming the Distortion, so m-maybe I had access to some sensations that I wouldn’t have otherwise. O-or maybe it was just because I’d gotten some rest, and my mind had strengthened up enough to be somewhat usable. [ _Laughs_ ] It also could have been because I was protecting Sadie, and there was some pressure on me now that her life was in my hands, b-but I’ve never been good at acting under pressure, so I doubt it was that.

I managed to find a door, much to my own relief, and we left. Entering the physical world was almost as jarring as waking up in the Distortion had been. As overwhelming as the hallways were, they were familiar. London was something entirely different. It’s a good thing Sadie was there. I don’t know what would have happened if she hadn’t been. I guess it was her turn to be my protector… I didn’t know where I was, a-and I had no home to return to. Th-the closest thing w-would have been the archives, but my feelings on that subject were… complicated. And I didn’t know if I would have been welcome, anyway. I _had_ just tried to kill you. 

I ended up going back to Sadie’s flat with her. She’s much too kind for her own good, but I was grateful for it. I am grateful. I needed that time to figure out what—who I was, and how to be a person again. It’s funny, I didn’t even know she had gone to make a statement with you until she brought it up. She asked me if I’d be willing to make a statement, too, and… I-I knew it might be dangerous, coming back to the Institute. If any of you didn’t recognize the change in me, or didn’t care—which would be totally reasonable, mind you, there were, um, multiple past threats of murder to consider—then I might be risking my life.

But I… I wanted to see what it was like, now. With a proper set of eyes, not like before. I wanted to see what it felt like without Gertrude, or Gerry, or any of the old assistants around. If it was the same old masquerade or if it, if it was something new. If it was something I could call a home not out of desperation, but out of belonging. That might be too much to hope for. That… that Sasha, your assistant, did she give you a statement? Did she dream of me? 

Something tells me she didn’t. I don’t think the Eye would need that from her, if it already owned her. And in that case… maybe that’s the deciding factor. I dream of the Archivist, so that must mean I do not belong in the archives. I’m fairly sure I’m human, but I don’t think I’m quite the same Michael Shelley that worked here—I don’t think I belong to the Eye anymore. Certainly not the Spiral. I am… unclaimed. I suppose that’s a good thing, isn’t it? Most people who’ve been touched by the fears would wish they could erase their marks. But I’m… Ugh. Saying this out loud makes it sound weird, like I’m bragging or something, but that’s not it at all—I’m just different from everyone else. I’ve _been_ claimed, twice, and escaped both times. I’ve seen things that no human being can ever see and lived to tell the tale. By all means, I should not exist.

But I do.

So what does the world do with something like me, that doesn’t fit into any of the right boxes? I’m not sure I want to find out, but I’ll have to. Maybe I can just… try to be normal.

That’s not going to work.

But I could try.

[ARCHIVIST]

… Statement ends. 

[PAUSE]

Are you all right?

[MICHAEL]

I’m… not sure there’s any way to answer that. The closest answer is, is probably no. I’m not. But I-I’m okay for now, I think?

[ARCHIVIST]

I’m so sorry, Michael.

[MICHAEL]

Why would you apologize to me? I’m… you know, I’m, I’m me.

[ARCHIVIST]

I’m not Gertrude, but what she did, it was wrong. She shouldn’t have used you like that.

[MICHAEL]

I understand, though. Obviously i-it wasn’t ideal or anything, but it was necessary. I’ve made my peace with it, is what I’m saying. Now I’m just trying to get over the whole—the whole aftermath thing.

[ARCHIVIST]

Right. Well, if you do need a place to stay, you’re more than welcome here. I can’t promise it’ll be safe, but… it’s something.

[MICHAEL]

Do you really think so? I-I mean, that would be great, that’d be swell, actually, would save me a lot of trouble, but don’t you—don’t you think you should maybe ask the others first? I don’t know if they’d all be so comfortable with… with having me around.

[ARCHIVIST]

It doesn’t matter. They can adjust. And to be quite frank, most of them already hate me these days, so it’s not like taking you in could make things any worse.

[MICHAEL]

I-I-I don’t want to intrude.

[ARCHIVIST]

You wouldn’t be. Gertrude may have betrayed you, but we—we can be something better than that. I know we can. 

[PAUSE]

You can stay with Sadie for a while and think it over, if you’d like.

[MICHAEL]

I think… I-I’ll probably do that, yeah. Thank you.

[ARCHIVIST]

You’re welcome.

[CLICK]

[CLICK]

[ARCHIVIST]

I have to admit, this is… not what I expected. He really does seem like the same Michael Shelley I heard on that tape. I know it’s probably stupid to trust him so easily, but I think—I think I would _know_ if there was something off about him. I’d be able to feel it. And all that distortion from before, the laughter, it’s all gone now. He just seems… lost. 

[PAUSE]

[ _Sighs_ ] It is stupid. I know it is, and I can’t even really justify it to myself. But I just… I just keep thinking about what the Institute _should_ have been for him. 

And about Gerard. I’m thinking a lot about Gerard. If I had met him a little earlier, before he died, or even—even after, before Trevor and Julia took him, maybe… 

[PAUSE]

I don’t know how old Michael was when the Distortion took him, but he doesn’t look older than twenty-five. He’s a child. Even after everything, there’s still time to fix this, and that—that’s an opportunity that’s becoming more and more rare lately. If there’s even one thing that I can actually fix… It doesn’t matter what the others say. If Michael wants to be here, then he deserves to be. 

Let’s just hope it doesn’t end up as further punishment.


End file.
